


Potroast

by dickiegreenleaf



Series: Baked and Glazed [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, kind of??? in a way???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickiegreenleaf/pseuds/dickiegreenleaf
Summary: In which Dan is very serious about his pottery studio, pinch pots are vaguely made, and Phil just wants to ogle his boyfriend.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: Baked and Glazed [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076549
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	Potroast

The pottery studio is nearly packed when Phil enters, the previous class filtering out as the next one rushes in. He squeezes past a man shrugging on his coat as he pushes through the door, eyes already scanning through the mass of people for his boyfriend. It doesn’t take long to find him—Dan towers over the crowd and his black uniform stands out from the more granola patrons. 

Phil weaves his way through the lingerers to the front desk where Della sits.

“Hey, Phil,” she greets him. “Here to see Dan, I assume?”

Phil reaches in his coat and whips out a voucher. “Actually, I’m here to take a class,” he says, placing the voucher on the desk.

“Oh!” Della replies, clearly surprised. Phil’s come by the studio fairly often in the past few weeks just to visit Dan, to watch him in his element. They’d seen Martyn and Cornelia for a Valentine’s Day double date, though, and Phil had lied and told Cornelia he’d used up all the vouchers. He figured the least he could do was _actually_ use them, albeit after the fact. Looking back, perhaps Cornelia had got him a pretty good gift after all. He got Dan out of it. 

Della types at her computer and lets him know that the next class starts in five minutes. Phil thanks her and heads toward the back, where Dan is setting up his station for the next class.

As Phil’s footsteps draw nearer, Dan stands up from his station and turns his head. His eyes widen. 

“What are you doing here?” Dan asks, a smile spreading across his face. 

“I’m your student today.”

Dan laughs. “You don’t need to buy my classes, Phil. We live together,” he says dismissively. “What’s up?”

Phil smiles, a full-bodied grin that makes his eyes squint. “I’m serious! I’m here to learn.” Dan squints at him. “Plus, it was a Christmas present, it’s not like I’m spending my own money.”

Dan raises an eyebrow in disbelief and presses his lips together to suppress a smile. “Are you now? Sure you’re not just here to ogle me?”

Phil puts his hand over his heart. “Of course not. I am a pothead if nothing else.”

Dan sighs. “Phil, we’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t care.”

Dan barks out a laugh and shoos Phil away with his hand. “Sit down, you menace.”

Phil giggles in response. He turns and takes the first station from Dan’s. Phil looks up at Dan once he’s sat down, and Dan just rolls his eyes. Hey, it’s not Phil’s fault most of the other stools were already taken. And if by most he means only three other stations, that’s neither here nor there.

Phil watches Dan fiddle with his tools, rearranging them on his station and straightening up from the previous class. His forearms, exposed by his rolled-up sleeves, flex as he works. Phil finds himself hypnotized by his boyfriend’s dextrous hands not for the first time. Dan rolls the small fist-sized lump of clay in front of him, working it and warming it up under his palms. His hands are caked with grey clay and calloused from years of work. As Dan works them into the clay, Phil remembers how it feels to have those hands on him. He shifts a bit in his seat.

Slowly, the final class participants begin to take their seats. By the time Dan claps his hands together and welcomes them all, every stool is taken. A small surge of pride swells in Phil’s chest for a moment, noting how well Dan’s grown this community in the past few weeks. 

“Hello, everyone,” Dan greets the class, smiling. “Great to see you all.” He pointedly doesn’t look in Phil’s direction. “Now, today’s class is a pinch pot tutorial, which is a really easy technique. Some of you will be pleased that this particular approach doesn’t use the wheel.” Phil knows Dan means him. “It is, however, a really great way to make smaller pots. So let’s get started.”

Dan takes his place at his station and holds up his lump of clay, demonstrating how to work it until it’s malleable. He drags his hands across the surface and presses the heel of his hand into it. 

Dan places the warmed-up lump on the still wheel in front of him. He shows the room his thumbs before pressing them both into the clay. Slowly, he works them into the lump, kneading and opening up a hole in the centre. As he’s working his thumbs into the clay, Dan makes the mistake of looking up at Phil.

Phil is biting his lip and staring at Dan with puppy eyes. He might as well be holding up a handmade “I’m horny!” sign. Dan has to hold back a laugh.

Suddenly, he remembers the sentiment that must be floating around in Phil’s mind right now. The other week Phil had made some comment about how sexual Dan’s job was, how opening up the clay was just like fingering it. And now here he is, fingering some clay in front of a class full of people.

Dan’s face goes red as he averts his eyes, looking at anything other than Phil and the pot he’s fingering. He feels a tingle under his apron and shifts in his stool.

Quickly, Dan wraps up his pot and shows off the small piece to the class. 

“It’s a pretty simple technique, so I think I’ll let you guys just get started.” Dan announces, suddenly desperate to get the attention off himself. “If anyone needs help, feel free to just call me over.” He gives one last smile as the class gets to work. Dan runs a hand through his hair, not caring about the stray pieces of clay he’s probably rubbing in there. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dan casts a glance over at Phil. Phil’s eyes are already on him. Dan’s not sure they ever left. 

With wide, innocent eyes, Phil plunges his pointer finger into his clay. Dan’s about to open his mouth, to remind Phil he’s meant to be using his thumbs, but the movement Phil begins to make is so sensual, so _dirty,_ Dan can’t find any words. Eyes boring into Dan’s, Phil works his finger in and out of the clay, biting his lip just the smallest bit. Dan’s eyes flick down to Phil’s hands as they massage the lip of the developing pot, massaging it open wider so he can plunge his finger deeper.

Dan jerks his head away, trying his hardest to stifle the smile that wants to break across his face. He’s sure his cheeks are blazing. Goddammit. He’s just thankful he has an apron to cover his crotch.

Just then, someone calls his name. “Dan?” He doesn’t recognize the voice. Dan looks around and sees a man about his own age sitting toward the front of the studio with his hand slightly raised. “I think my clay might be a bit dried out.”

“‘Course,” Dan replies. “Be right there.”

From his seat, Phil cranes his neck a bit to watch Dan walk over to the man. Dan rounds the man’s station, crouching down at the man’s side into his space. His face is level with the man’s crotch. Dan plucks the clay from the man’s hands, starting to knead it a bit. Phil watches Dan say something to the man, making eye contact, looking like he’s demonstrating how to work the clay. Dan places the clay in the man’s hands, and then places his own hands over the man’s, helping him knead deeply.

Phil’s had enough.

“Dan,” he calls, loud enough to be heard across the room. A few eyes look up at him, but he doesn’t care. Phil raises his pitch a bit, in that innocent way he knows Dan loves. “I’m not sure I understand what I’m doing. Could you come help me?” He punctuates his question with a small pout.

From his crouched position by the man’s lap across the room, Dan smirks just the smallest bit. Phil sees him say one last thing to the man before standing up and striding over to Phil. Dan maintains eye contact the whole way over.

“Need help with something?” Dan asks, the polite smile on his lips not matching the darkness in his eyes.

Phil cocks his head. “I’m finding this a bit… hard.” He smiles innocently.

“Well I’m sure I can help with that,” Dan replies.

Dan grabs the stool from his own station next to Phil’s and sets it behind Phil. Phil feels its legs bang against his stool from how close Dan places it. Phil’s back is engulfed in warmth as Dan sits down, practically straddling Phil from behind. Phil wants to tell him to scoot back, to warn him that they’re in public, but this has been his game from the start. He’s just getting what he wants; he’d be an idiot to tell Dan off now.

As Dan settles into the position, Phil can feel Dan’s hard cock pressing against his lower back through his apron.

“You absolute bastard,” Dan whispers into his ear, pretending to readjust Phil’s hands into the proper technique. “You come into my place of work just to fuck with me, to get me hard in front of everyone.” He punctuates this with a soft, subtle press of his crotch into the top of Phil’s ass. “That’s not very fair at all, now is it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you aren’t,” Dan replies, dragging a nail up Phil’s forearm, leaving behind a light scratch. “I’m afraid I can’t have you disrupting my work like that.” Another soft thrust.

“I just wanted to use my voucher.”

“No, you didn’t. I know you.” Dan pokes his tongue out the slightest bit to tease Phil’s earlobe. Thank god there’s no one sitting to their right.

“Okay,” Phil gulps. “I wanted to see you.”

“Try again.” Phil shudders slightly, Dan’s arms wrapped around him as he whispers in his ear.

“I wanted to touch you,” Phil whispers.

“Good. See me after class.”

With this, Dan stands up. Phil immediately misses the warmth, instinctively leaning back a bit to search for Dan. Looking down at his crotch, Phil realizes he’s got a bit of a problem on his hands. Or, not on his hands. He wishes it were on his hands, but he’s quite thoroughly in the middle of a pottery lesson right now. He hunches over his station more, hoping no one looks too closely at him.

———

Phil leans against the front desk in the darkened studio as he and Dan chat with Della. The final patrons are filtering out of the studio, the last class having ended ten minutes ago. A few call farewells to Dan as they head out the door, and he makes sure to wave to them and call them by name. Phil is always in awe of how Dan remembers so many names, with so many people passing through the studio all the time.

“Want me to stay behind to clean up?” Della asks. “I’ve not got anything on tonight; I’d be happy to help.”

“No,” Dan replies almost too quickly. “It’s fine. Go home. I’ve got it.”

Della squints her eyes a bit and a small smile appears on her face. Her eyes flick to Phil, then back to Dan. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright,” she replies, nodding. Della picks up her coat from the back of her chair and shrugs it on. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dan. Have fun.” She punctuates her last statement with a smirk and heads out the door.

 _God, there’s nothing suspicious about us staying behind,_ Phil thinks as Della leaves. _I mean, we’re gonna fuck, but there’s nothing outwardly suspicious about this. So smug._

Phil turns to Dan, whose face is already covered in a seductive look. He’s waited for this as impatiently as Phil, apparently. “Seemed like you were having some trouble in class today, Phil,” Dan says innocently. “Perhaps you wanted a tip?”

Dan breaks at his own double entendre, voice trailing off into a cackle. Phil shoves his shoulder lightly. “Shut up, you’re the one fingering clay in front of the whole studio.”

Dan gives Phil a disbelieving look. “No, no, I’m pretty sure that’s you, mate,”

Phil lets out a small laugh and moves further into Dan’s space, placing his hands on Dan’s hips. “You’re a very good teacher,” Phil whispers. He places a soft kiss at the corner of Dan’s mouth. “I’m just a very bad student.” Phil looks at Dan through his lashes.

At this, Dan lets out a needy groan and pulls Phil to him by the shoulders. Dan smashes his lips against Phil’s, and Phil lets out a soft sigh into Dan’s mouth. Phil’s grip on Dan’s hips tightens. Licking his way into Phil’s mouth, Dan walks Phil backward so he can press him against the front desk and slot a leg between Phil’s. Phil’s cock is fully hard against Dan’s hip through his trousers, and Dan isn’t far behind.

Suddenly, Dan pulls back, disconnecting their lips and legs. “I think,” he starts. “You need to learn proper technique.

Phil gives him a look, somewhere between confused and scandalized.

“I’m gonna show you, Phil, the proper technique for… pinch pots,” Dan continues. Phil’s eyes go wide. _Does he mean—?_

Dan grabs Phil by his left front belt loop and leads him further into the studio. When they reach the station Phil had used in class today, Dan stops.

“Sit.”

For the second time in thirty seconds, Phil is confused. _Did Dan actually intend to show him how to make a pinch pot?_

Phil, however, follows Dan’s instructions and sits at his stool. Once he’s sitting, Dan turns and walks into the back room, the final rays of light in the studio pouring from its door. He returns not ten seconds later, a fist-sized lump of clay in his hand. As he passes his own station, he grabs his stool. Dan places the stool behind Phil’s, just as he had in class today.

Dan sits down, squeezing his legs more tightly around Phil’s than earlier. His hard cock is pressed up against Phil’s lower back. The contact, the feeling of being surrounded by Dan, makes Phil shiver.

Phil feels as Dan leans in, pressing a kiss to the patch of skin right below his right ear. Then he blows on Phil’s ear lightly. “I’m going to show you the proper technique,” Dan begins, in a low, rumbling voice. “On you.” He reaches around and places the lump of clay on Phil’s station.

“You’re—?” Phil asks, confused.

“I’m going to work you open, and you’re going to mirror my movements.”

Phil has no clue how to respond to that, other than to whisper his consent and nod his head a bit too enthusiastically. God, how did he manage to find a boyfriend like Dan.

Dan stands to divest himself of his trousers and pants, and tells Phil to do the same. Once they’ve undressed from the bottom down, Dan scoots his stool back the slightest bit and instructs Phil to hang a little off the edge of his, resting his thighs on the stool more than his ass. Phil feels a bit lost without the grip of Dan’s thighs grounding him on the stool. Like an electric shock, though, Phil feels a cold finger come to rest at the top of his crack. The feeling goes straight to his groin.

“You good?” Dan whispers into Phil’s ear.

“Yes,” Phil replies, sounding winded already. “Go on.”

The finger disappears, and Phil hears then the sound of a bottle being opened behind him, because of course Dan keeps lube in his apron pocket now. The finger, now slick, comes to rest on Phil’s crack. Dan rubs up and down, stroking Phil slowly, but not making any move toward his hole yet. Phil isn’t sure what he’s supposed to be doing with the clay; he just holds it dumbly in his hands as he bites back small noises and focuses on the sensation of Dan’s lubed up finger trailing along his crack. 

Dan’s finger stills, then he presses a bit more insistently, bringing the pad of his middle finger against Phil’s tight hole. Dan drops his head to Phil’s shoulder, and they both groan into the darkened studio. 

Phil moves his finger to the centre of the clay, readying himself to press in.

Dan swirls his finger around just the smallest bit, readying Phil to take him. Then, Dan presses the tip of his finger into Phil, and Phil presses the tip of his finger into the ball of clay. Dan lets out a desperate-sounding breath into Phil’s shoulder as he flicks his eyes up to check that Phil is following along.

Dan works the tip of his finger into Phil, making shallow thrusts in and out, getting Phil’s hole wet and ready for more. He feels Phil’s muscles begin to relax around his finger as Phil feels the clay acquiesce to his touch, growing warmer and softer. Swirling his finger just the slightest bit, Dan pushes in to his second knuckle. Phil grunts, deep and needy. 

Dan looks up again to see Phil working his clay open, a dip forming in the middle of the ball. Phil’s cock is straining upward, nearly touching his chest as he hunches over the work station. The head is pink and wet, a bead of precum already gathered at the tip. Dan licks his lips and kisses Phil’s shoulder, wishing he could lick the wetness from Phil’s cock in this position.

Dan continues to work his finger in and out of Phil, both of them adjusting to this unusual angle. When he sees Phil has made decent progress on the pot, he rewards him by thrusting deeper, sheathing his entire finger inside Phil.

Phil lets out a surprised grunt, high-pitched and incredibly turned on, and Dan watches as Phil shoves his thumb through the bottom of the pot.

“Phil,” Dan scolds. “Imagine if I ripped you open like that. That’s not very good.” Phil feels shame wash over him as Dan continues to finger him. He balls up the clay, rolling it back into its original form. “Start again.”

Dan continues to finger Phil as Phil works his pot open, Dan’s fingers a bit rougher now. As if he’s treating Phil’s hole as Phil had treated the clay. Phil lets out a steady stream of whimpers and moans as Dan works his finger in and out, in and out, in and out at a steady pace. Phil is fairly well stretched open by now, and Dan is more focused on teasing him than working him loose. Dan twists his finger at just the right angle, and Phil moans loudly, doubling over and almost breaking through the walls of the pot again. Dan continues to press the pad of his finger against that spot as Phil sobs, liquid dripping down his cock as he tries to remake the pot.

Once the pot is back to the shape it was before Phil broke it, Dan presses his mouth to Phil’s neck, licking and sucking just the slightest bit. Not enough to leave a mark, but just enough to make Phil beg.

“Dan,” he pants. “Dan.” Dan removes his finger.

Phil wants to cry.

As soon as the feeling left, though, he feels something else poking at his hole—something decidedly bigger than Dan’s finger. He presses back, seeking the warmth of Dan’s cock, trying to fuck himself back on Dan to no avail. Phil looks down at his pot, and what Dan is asking clicks in his brain.

“Dan?” Phil asks, breathless. There is no response; just the feeling of Dan’s cock pressing up against his open hole. Phil takes a deep breath and brings the pot down, settling its opening on the head of his cock. The sensation of cold pressure against his cock almost makes him lose it right there. “Do it,” he growls.

Dan pushes into Phil, groaning into his shoulder, feeling his cock finally being surrounded by Phil’s tight heat. 

Phil pushes into the clay, dragging the sides of it further down his cock so as to make it easier to fuck into. It’s so wrong, and so weird, and it’s one of the hottest things Phil has ever done. The clay is still cold, despite all his handling, but he can feel the warmth of his hands radiating through the thinner sides of the pot. Phil thrusts into the pot as much as he can from his sitting position, doing the rest of the work with his hands. Each time he drags himself out of the clay, he’s moved back onto Dan’s warm cock, filling him up so good and so completely. It’s almost too much, this all-overness. There’s no respite, nowhere to hide from the absolutely mind-blowing pleasure he’s getting from fucking into a piece of clay while his boyfriend fucks him from behind. 

Dan’s letting out little helpless, high-pitched moans into Phil’s ear, and Phil’s groaning loudly, a non-stop stream of noise. Phil can hardly take it, fucking into the pot and back into Dan. He feels the wetness from his own cock aiding his slide, and it’s the best thing Phil has ever felt.

“What’s it like?” Dan asks through a grunt.

“It’s cold,” Phil pants. “Nothing like fucking you.” Phil lets out a loud cry as Dan thrusts harder into him. “It’s so good,” he confesses, feeling shame and heat envelope his whole body.

Dan speeds up his thrusts, lapping at Phil’s neck, and Phil fucks into the clay harder than ever. He’s so close. He’s so close, and then Dan is swirling his hips as he fucks him, and then Phil is there, and then he’s coming into the clay. He comes with a shout, one that anyone passing the studio could certainly hear, and Dan fills him up at the same time.

Dan continues to lick and press kisses into the spot where Phil’s shoulder and neck meet as they come down. Phil is fully hunched over the station now, resting his head on his elbows. Slowly, Dan pulls out of Phil. Phil, though, is too scared to take his cock out of the clay, too nervous to see the reality of what he’d just done.

“Come on,” Dan says, punctuating his plea with another kiss. “Let me see it.”

Face burning, Phil slowly pulls the ruined pot off his cock, watching strands of cum drip from inside. Dan whimpers into Phil’s shoulder.

“I just fucked a piece of clay,” Phil says, voice a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and exhaustion. Dan chuckles softly.

“I don’t think we can put that in the kiln.”

**Author's Note:**

> surprise bitch i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me
> 
> a few friends encouraged me to write more of this very, very cursed concept and who am i to deny them that! and now phil only has one voucher oh no what ever will he do :(((


End file.
